


This Body’s Desperate For Something New

by Pink_and_Velvet



Series: Ink Me, Like One Of Your Nagel Girls [2]
Category: Duran Duran, Duran Duran (Music Videos)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Band nods, Best Friends, Body Modification, Canon nods, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Friends to Lovers, Hand Kink, Ink, Kissing, Leather Kink, M/M, Music Nods, Needles, Patrick Nagel, Playboy, Running a Business, Sex nods, Singing, Tattoos and Piercings, Threesome, serenades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23157685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: They’ll never get enough of their lover’s ink, branding them, lighting up their skin. Sometimes, they’ll need a helping hand to make their wildest fantasies come true.Tattoo and Piercing Shop AU.
Relationships: Nick Rhodes/John Taylor (Duran Duran), Nick Rhodes/John Taylor/Warren Cuccurullo, Warren Cuccurullo/John Taylor (Duran Duran)
Series: Ink Me, Like One Of Your Nagel Girls [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664626
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	This Body’s Desperate For Something New

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, I’m back with this AU!! I just have far too many ideas, for each Duran, some to be covered and others to be starting out. Bear with me, there will be more. Much more! 😘

Dancing his way down the darkened corridor to his studio, JT nodded and greeted each and every icon’s poster and record cover as he met them. The line was endless, a wall purely dedicated to the greats: _The Who; Mott The Hoople; Queen; Roxy Music; Sex Pistols; The Clash; Blondie_ and far too many _Bowie_ albums to count.

JT was buzzing, the internal buzz almost as loud as one of his tattoo guns. The one for the outline, so a dull whir as it began to lovingly caress heated skin.

Although he felt a need for something slower, more funky. _Chic_ it is.

“Le Freak, so chic. Freak out!”

They were both getting tattooed today, he and Nicki. After a couple weeks of rigorous planning with his right hand tattoo man Cuccoo, finally all three of them had come up with the perfect idea. Well, Nicki being Nicki had already had it in mind and knew that it was up to JT and Cuccoo to sketch it. To stencil it, to mould it to his skin.

Cuccoo was a gem. He had saved them when they needed it, having lost two of the key members. Although one particular Taylor, Nicki still couldn’t believe he had hired _three,_ broke up Cuccoo’s last tattooing joint. It was a tough world on the body modification front.

JT was covered, well and truly. He was a spectacle, inked skin on show for the world to marvel over. For the world to stop him in the middle of the street, to carefully creep a finger forward and ask for the ink’s story. Life story. JT was one of those men who could talk for hours, his Brummie tones seeping in as he took his time: thoroughly explaining the history, the idea, of each tattoo. Over the years it had become an internal monologue as such, JT knew what points to accentuate and where to leave silences and his audience with a guffaw.

Then came the inexplicable, which irritated the tattooist to no end, new edition. He had gotten hammered, completely sloshed and must’ve been traipsing around Birmingham New Street, totally getting on the wrong train, and instead wandered into a tattoo studio that wasn’t _Skin Trade_.

The ultimate tattooing no-go: get the ink whilst drunk.

JT had done just that.

Saving it till the morning after wasn’t even the hard part, awakening with the familiar ink running down his arm, nor was it showing Nicki. His best friend since the age of thirteen, his partner (in every sense of the word) practically ever since.

It was the fact that to this day, now that the healing time was up, he still had zero idea what his tattoo actually meant. The monstrosity was perched atop his right shoulder, JT was still miffed at how much skin it had taken up. Who had even let him waltz in seeing stars and probably frothing at the mouth?

Simply put, the design was jet black and the lines were thick. Two ‘D’s’ were interlocking, facing different ways. Although he tried and tried, his creativity being milked dry, JT hadn’t a clue how to describe it.

He just supposed he would have to live with it, _the_ _reflexes_ being so sharp, his drunken escapade of inexplicable tomfoolery.

There was also his _Hold Back The Rain_ tat resting dangerously close to his— but that was a story for another night. He just didn’t want to make it a _New Religion_ of sorts, getting inked when completely out of it. That was childish, foolish.

Now whizzing about in his chair, JT snapped on a latex glove. His whole body shivered, it would never not be exciting to hear that slap on skin. It was almost erotic, the mere thought of where those talented hands were to go.

Although right now, those talented hands were to be working on himself.

The ‘I’ across his _Wild Boys!_ knuckle tat needed a touch up. A mere twenty seconds, a couple wipes of the ink and he was content. It sat just above his beloved striking red roses. He had tattooed the same with the cryptic words _Be My Icon_ across Nicki’s hand not too long ago. So when they held hands, massaging each other’s palms, their artwork was matching perfectly.

Pleased with his handiwork, JT snapped off his glove and shimmied away from his inks. He quickly wrapped up his left ring finger, and headed out of the studio.

JT was covered in the finest disarray of tattoos. He also had another new edition, along with the mysterious monstrosity atop his right arm. His left thigh was screaming in vivid red, a display of his perfect colours and geometric shapes. It was a design he had done back in art school, Birmingham Polytechnic, before he had realised the potential he really had in starting a business empire all based on his artwork.

She was beautiful, harsh red contrasting on a sleek noir background. She was dancing, an exotic star, wrapping her lengthy limbs around JT’s lanky thigh. Her lips were parted and head thrown back in a wild way that made his head spin and groin tingle. She was surrounded with crazy neon lines and triangles: summing up the neon blur that was the decade. The zeitgeist.

JT always knew how to perfectly sum himself up and his _Tula_ , as he lovingly called her after one of his favourite models, was the best of the best. Perhaps she could even make it as a Bond Girl someday.

Cuccoo had thoroughly outdone himself here, JT knew that his old tattoo pal Ands would’ve gone wild for his _Wild Boy_ , eager to re-work the pattern and _Get It On_ with his own rendition of JT’s sensual artwork.

What could JT say? _Some Liked It Hot_ but he felt the bloody scorcher!

He was bopping his way through the winding corridor, _Le Freak_ still stuck in his mind. There was just something about that bass, about Bernard Edwards. JT was in a tizzy!

He rounded the corner, now back in the main foyer and he caught sight of Nicki. His darling Nicki. He was stood behind the reception desk, decked out in a delectable baby blue jumpsuit that clung beautifully to his legs. It was boxy on top, the shoulder pads adding more sass and definition to Nicki’s already striking guise. He was wearing one of his favourite earrings, a ruby triangle drop that was encrusted with stones. JT had bought it for him for his eighteenth, having been pierced first at fourteen by his mother. It had been a night neither man could ever forget…

Shaking his head, JT refocused. He found himself smiling, ruby lips quirking upwards as his face creased with it. Eyebrow and lip rings contorting with it. He ran a hand through his ever growing brown hair, his days of flashy red were behind him for now. Although there was nothing set in stone, he could easily go back to the saucy red fox that the ladies so loved.

Maybe he would try his luck with a mullet. He had talented hands, JT, and a master hairstylist for a boyfriend. That should be easy.

Nicki was just finishing up with a customer. JT caught wind of the conversation, the man was looking to book a tattoo. He wasn’t sure if he was a tattoo virgin or not, skin buried under a stark white leather jacket. He wore black trousers with more silver belts than what JT could count, plus the odd wristband.

The man had beautiful blonde hair and a striking blue gaze. He whipped round and caught JT in his sights, a smirk caressing his handsome face. “See ya Saturday!”

“Huh?” JT was gaping like a little crackhead staring down his next line.

“He really is beautiful, isn’t he?”

Nicki began laughing along with the mystery man, more than convinced.

There was just something about him that had the tattooist caught in a trance, or something. There was also a weird Elvis-like quality about him. He radiated cockiness and a self-assured attitude but, that also told JT, the man really was a swell guy.

It was guaranteed to be a fun appointment, whoever the hell he was.

He seemed to like noise though.

The man strutted back out the door and JT shimmied his way over to Nicki. He caught his ruby stained lips in his own, the kiss was quick and dirty as JT’s hands trailed down the fine baby blue leather that encased Nicki’s eager body. Breaking away, a small wet sound, JT giggled and leant back down again. Their foreheads were resting against each other, earrings swinging in the small breeze, chests rising and falling in sync.

“You ready?” JT breathed, catching Nicki’s lips in his again. “Not on your own so help me ple—”

“—Stop singing.”

With a huff, “ _fine_.”

Nicki was beaming, pasty face lighting up.

“Cuccoo said he’ll be another few minutes.” Nicki began, interweaving his dexterous finger’s with JT’s own. “Have you seen the stencils, babe?”

JT shook his head, mousey brown fringe falling into his eyes.

“Wanna be surprised, you know, we’re going into it together.” His tone was light, airy, JT was practically bouncing in his boyfriend’s grasp.

They took a seat in the plush leather sofa, sinking merrily into it. _Skin Trade_ looked more like an apartment, full of modern and slick furniture and the avant guard art (as chosen by Nicki) matched that to a tee. Nicki spoke briefly of the clients JT had lined up for the next couple days, now heading to pull the shutters down and close _Skin Trade_ for the day.

“What did, uh,” JT paused, trying to remember those intense blue eyes, “the last guy want?”

The final customer was too close to closing to catch JT so Nicki had asked him to return over the weekend when they had more time to chat. JT raised a pierced brow, knowing immediately that Nicki sent him away because of what they were doing tonight. A consultation wouldn’t have taken him too long but they had plans. A real _Big Thing was planned_.

Just as the tattooist was about to call the piercer up on his actions, whether there was _something he should know_ about this mystery man, he was interrupted by a hearty chuckle. JT didn’t even have to turn his back to know his fellow tattooist, Cuccoo, was grinning like mad.

“ _Save it till tha mornin’ after_ , boys, we’ve got some tats to do!”

Both JT and Nicki were inches apart, lips ready to lock but Cuccoo’s voice separated them with a giggle. Still, it didn’t stop Nicki stealing another quick kiss as they both rose to their feet: the familiar adrenaline now rushing through their aching veins. They could taste the faint trace of fag smoke on each other’s hot tongues, JT was lapping up the nicotine as best he could.

“C’mon! I’m not wasting my whole night on you two!” Cuccoo was laughing again, more than ready to pounce on them both, _like a wolf_ , to split the couple up.

Nicki held out a soft, manicured hand. JT took it, leather sounding as he got to his feet. Together they walked rose painted hand in hand, JT’s ravishing red on Nicki’s more muted purple: right to Cuccoo’s studio.

Cuccoo was a spectacle, in and of himself. He was beautiful, with stunning features and a chiseled jawline. JT easily got lost in his eyes, the way his voice would rise and fall, his bared chest…

Cuccoo was never really one for covering up. Not that either man was really complaining or ever really had complained.

Today he was wearing a see through nylon shirt, or was it fishnet? Whatever it was, the fabric was practically clinging to him; every rippling muscle and protruding vein. The skin under his shirt was tinted grey/black, his top three buttons were wide open to explore his toned chest. Cuccoo was no tattoo virgin. No ‘insert pretty much anything’ virgin. His left pec was lovingly covered with a rich, Aztec style design that fizzled out onto his shoulder and rounded down his back. The patterns were slick, the detail incredible.

His left arm told a different story. It was riddled with pin ups, men and women, all in compromising positions. Riddled with leather and chain.

JT couldn’t lie to himself, when Cuccoo rolled up his sleeves to bare those gorgeously tanned arms, he sometimes forgot how to breathe.

There was this one, JT’s favourite, of a woman in a tight corset and leggings. She wore heeled boots and had her tits out, hair swooped back into a bun and a stern look. She wore a cap, the type those fancy drivers wear, and was practically dancing across Cuccoo’s skin.

JT had tattooed the word ‘Notorious’ across Cuccoo’s hip bone. He was a Hitchcock fan, JT, and Cuccoo seemed more than happy to have such an esteemed title inked across him. Either that or he just wanted JT’s slick fingers to caress him down low. Probably the second one.

JT was more than faithful to Nicki, his oldest and best-est friend. But his hands hand wandered and they had both wanted it. A couple times, here and there. Nothing _serious_ , between JT and Cuccoo, _it doesn’t have to be._ Nicki had found out and JT was more than ready to stumble out his poorly crafted apology. He just had his _Own Way_. Or would have been, if he wasn’t on his knees before both men.

Together they entered the world of Warren Cucco-cuccu- JT still had trouble pronouncing it. Which left both Nicki and Warren giggling like virginal schoolgirls. His studio was dark, walls plastered with pin ups and highly suggestive imagery. Erotic portraits, heels and champagne glasses. Some nudist stuff, JT didn’t really get that but at the same time he was kinda all for it.

He even had a mock sex swing in the far corner to lay inks on: a prized item that was always top banter between the clients.

JT was hungrier than the wolf, albeit a strange analogy, to get his next ink. Although he promised, immediately gave into those loving hazel eyes and the kohl that lovingly coated them, that Nicki would be going first.

It would be the first time Cuccoo’s tools entered Nicki. He couldn’t help but snigger at that.

“You know the drill, _Master_ Bates,” Cuccoo began as he lined up his inks and Vaseline, “tell me when it hurts!”

“No problem.” Their eyes met, a long moment of unspoken heat as they found their beat.

JT coughed and they broke apart, a flush of something new coating Nicki’s heavily contoured cheeks.

“ _Relax_ Johnny, he’s all yours!” Cuccoo hollered, picking up on the jealousy from the leather clad wearing heathen before him. “He’s too _cutesy_ for me, I’ll rip ‘im in two!”

“Hey!” Nicki called, arms in the air. “Rude.”

JT took a moment to consider. He was running his nails up and down his _Barbarella_ pin up, her delicious cartoon curves caressing his forearm.

“But, _Tr-u-ue!_ ” JT sang it, the way an upcoming London New Wave Band would.

Both Nicki and Cuccoo sang along, at least one of the three men could actually hit the right key. They were thankful for the easy mood.

Nicki rid himself of his jumpsuit, baring a white tank top and boxers underneath. He was more than aware of JT’s heated eyes on him, running all over as Nicki lay himself down on his stomach. His painted skin was on show, he was the least tatted of the bunch but each ink was sparking something deep within JT. Some in ways he understood, others in ways he didn’t.

Obviously Cuccoo had picked up on the wandering brown eyes, again without his glasses. “This why you wanted to go first, Nicki? Knowing he’ll be losing his shit staring at your ass for three hours?” He giggled.

“Holy— well played, _Wild Boy_.”

“You’re most welcome, _King Porn_.” Nicki was laughing, ass now totally in JT’s flushed face.

They were getting matching-ish tattoos. Ones that spoke volumes of both men and their creativity, the love and bonds that ran deep within them for each other. Although they already had a range of tattoos for their lover between them, this one was different. A new ballgame for the both of them. Nicki had first mentioned it months back and JT could just _read his mind. See in the snow._

He and Cuccoo had planned it non stop, endless pints downed and discarded papers later they had done it. Nicki only deserved the best. He was pretty high maintenance in general but as was JT, when it came to branding his skin for life.

Both tattoos would be going on their calves, JT’s right and Nicki’s left so when they stood side by side so did their artwork. It still surprised Cuccoo that JT had most of his calves free of life changing ink.

JT had simply smiled his best front page worthy smile, full of teeth and perfectly sculpted cheek bones, and stated: “This body’s desperate for something new.”

Cuccoo applied the stencil, Nicki winced under the coldness. It was familiar yet alien to him at the same time as Cuccoo had never tattooed him. There was a lot riding on this, for the both of them. Nicki felt an odd betrayal, his lover was sitting beside him and they were hand in hand. The subtle show of affection was something that they never could do with JT’s needles weaving into Nicki’s pasty skin. But now, catching JT’s pinky lips in his, he didn’t have to stop touching him. He wasn’t letting JT go.

They had mutually agreed to not know what was being inked across their skin. Although they both knew the artist, a personal favourite that sparked endless excitement between them both, they didn’t know which particular piece would be branding them for life.

Nicki had his assumptions. He was pretty sure he knew exactly which portrait screamed ‘Nigel John Taylor.’

It was harder on JT’s end. There were far too many masterpieces that sang ‘Nicholas James Bates.’ Each model was a stunner in her own way, turning heads as the lights flashing out on her were so bright. It went without saying that any and all of the cartoon renditions could be Nicki, perfect makeup and a perfectly hot little body. JT couldn’t wait time see which design Nicki had chosen for him.

JT checked the stencil, every inch of the outline.

“It’s fricking insane, man, I can’t even!” JT’s eyes were wide, calloused fingers hovering above Nicki’s covered calf.

“Am I, JT,” Nicki beckoned him back to his face, “going to love it?”

The smile graced JT’s ruby lips again, pulling upwards into a blinding smile. He leant forward, nodding, brushing his cut cheek up against Nicki’s. His smooth lips caressed it, working their way down his jaw. Slow and steady, full of reassurance.

The simple ministrations told Nicki everything he needed to know.

He winced as the first needle made contact. No matter how many tattoos he had, no matter the placement, Nicki couldn’t help but initially screw his hazel eyes shut. The outline was alright. The shading was harder to sit through, he liked to wriggle about a little, the more and more needles he took.

JT was chuckling softly, letting Nicki clutch at him tighter. Both of their palms were sweaty, now three hours in to Nicki’s sitting. They had been babbling non stop, all three of them. Getting to know Cuccoo all over again, coming over to the UK, his tattooing career… he even had a band. They were more than eager to hear him play again.

Cuccoo was a madman on guitar. His fingers ran wild up and down it, all over. He had a stage presence that left the boys in awe, asking whyyyyy, why why, whyyyy he didn’t play more often in the studio. Killer six string wrapped around his killer body, chest bare, Cuccoo would be racking up the customers left right and centre. Men and women would be flocking too him, without hesitation.

They also talked music, JT’s go to topic in any and all situations. Once he got going he found it hard to stop but that didn’t matter. When certain band names dropped from that delightful overbite, Nicki found himself beaming brighter and brighter. Matching JT’s light with his own, his _Flame_.

Cuccoo was immensely talented, Nicki didn’t squeal or squirm. He listened to JT’s breathing, Cuccoo’s soft voice and sat through it all. Perfectly, without doubt that this was the right thing. The right step to take together, rose caressed hand in hand. JT had a powerful presence. He helped Nicki raise to his feet, a little shaky, and then they swapped places. JT shimmied out of his skintight leathers, homemade golden belt colliding with the floor. He kept on his tank and fedora, baring those lanky arms.

Nicki was quick to remove it, putting his fedora on for himself. The shirt could stay, for now. He knew it would be a little irritable: JT’s single pierced nipple rubbing up against the leather fabric of the chair for hours on end.

It felt odd, to both JT and Nicki, the notion of where Cuccoo’s talented hands were going. Running over JT’s legs, brushing away the excess ink. Massaging him, somewhat. Nicki was always more transfixed watching a client get a tattoo as opposed to himself, he liked to see the action. It was a whole new ballgame when the needle was slicing his skin, Nicki would rather observe.

JT kept his hands by his sides and kept hold of Nicki who perched behind him, content on watching the needle and inks. Nicki’s eyes were wide, in awe as Cuccoo added line after line. Colour after colour. JT was fine with it, if anything Nicki was letting out surprised gasps and jumping slightly in his grip as opposed to the other way around. He knew Cuccoo wasn’t hurting him and JT was a big boy but at times like this, especially with him watching, it was as though Cuccoo was attacking his poor little Nigel. John. Not JT, John.

He was being stripped back, in Nicki’s mind. Being rid of all his ink and holes in his body. To the times before they could be pierced, before he had even realised that Nigel could hold a pencil and sketch something beautiful.

It was hard, he wouldn’t lie, for Nicki to watch JT put himself through the pain: even though his love made sure to keep telling him he couldn’t feel a thing.

“I could fall asleep right here, you know how it is babe.” JT yawned, craning his neck to try and catch Nicki’s eyes.

He met them, a smokey set on a smeared coat of mascara. JT fluttered his lashes and dropped another huge smile. At that, Nicki felt his heart swell. He didn’t need to worry anymore.

“Why don’t we go watch something later, yeah?”

Nicki immediately caught wind of where he was going. They were both in the midst of re-watching the Bond classics. _For Your Eyes Only_ was next. JT just couldn’t get enough of the franchise, having dreamt for years of big cars and fancy guns. Not so much the ladies now, like he once tried to fantasise.

He had Nicki, Nicki was his one and only. _His_ Bond Girl who would totally laze about in a silken slip dress if JT asked him nicely. He knew that from experience.

They had both been a fan of women’s clothing from a very young age. Why hide it?

“Okay, Johnny,” Cuccoo smeared his skin with the final spritz, “we’re done.”

“Thank _fuck_ for that!” He let out a groan, slowly rising to his feet.

JT was a little shaky, he hopped to avoid his right leg taking the weight. With a not so subtle roll of his chocolate brown eyes, Cuccoo delved under JT’s lanky arm and hoisted him up. He beckoned Nicki over. Nicki had thankfully gotten all feeling back in his leg about two hours ago. He let Cuccoo hoist his boyfriend up into a fireman’s carry, laughing as a slightly sleepy JT lay his head to rest on Cuccoo’s smooth chest.

Cuccoo carried him over the threshold, murmuring sweet nothings about JT acting _Like An Angel._ Both knew that was the furthest thing from the truth, JT’s hands running dangerously low down the sweat that now coated the tattooist’s back screamed that from the rooftops.

“Stop molesting me, John.”

At the use of his (somewhat) given name, middle name, JT straightened up. He fell out of Cuccoo’s grip with a chuckle, flipping him off in a heap on the tile floor.

“Ya loved it, every moment!”

Cuccoo rolled his eyes.

“And, the bitch is back.”

Confused, JT added, “when did you leave?”

Both Cuccoo and Nicki joined in JT’s laughter. Together they had a strange set of tones that seemed to harmonise just right, very rhythmical.

They were both still nude from the waist down, tents in the fabric weren’t hidden. JT’s face was flush, he blamed the sudden rush of dopamine bought about by the needle. The other men knew it to be mostly bullshit, Nicki’s mere presence had helped _that_ situation out much more so than a simple scrape of his flushing skin.

Maybe JT was a little embarrassed by it. Maybe not. Knowing JT, which both Nicki and Cuccoo did on very different levels: the man couldn’t give a crap. He’d have his lover, his _Wild Boy_ very soon. Or, his controller.

Bracing himself before the mirror, lights flashing all around him, JT inhaled a shaky breath. His gaze fixed onto the smaller silhouette as it pressed into his back, the shiver, the sudden feel of being so protected rushing though him. JT leant back with a sigh, eyes slipping shut. He just let himself feel. Everything from Nicki’s breaths to his delightful fingers and torturous lips as they caressed his neck. JT’s huge hand searched for Nicki’s, encasing it in his open palm.

“Ready _King Porn?_ ” Cuccoo had adopted Nicki’s not so cute and innocent nickname, JT chuckled.

Cuccoo was already crouching to remove Nicki’s wrap. He didn’t need an answer from either the piercer nor the tattooist.

Hand in hand, breaths suddenly coming far too quick, the wrap was removed and both men turned. JT swung his gaze back over his ink riddled shoulder, the double D’s, letting his gaze fall to the floor.

“H-holy,” there were tears in his eyes that he didn’t try to hide. “Oh my... _babe_.”

Without another word, no chance for a breath, he slammed his painted lips into Nicki’s, needing to taste him and suck him. To suck him dry. To run his quivering hands all over him and remind him who his number one was.

Nicki felt the heat beneath his winter and let JT in.

They parted with a sigh, heads whipping round to catch a proper look. “It’s perfect, I can’t… shit, she’s beautiful.”

JT let a tear run free. He let Cuccoo wipe it away.

“You’ve thoroughly outdone yourself, Warren.”

Hearing his given name in Nicki’s thick Brummie accent had Cuccoo bouncing, smile so bright that it was blinding them both. In all the best ways.

“They’re _stunning_ ,” JT’s voice was small, “a true Nagel.”

JT had known since the first time Nicki had mentioned it months ago; that he had thoroughly made the right choice. There was just something about the _Playboy_ icon, that got to them both. Stunned them, excited and flawed them in different ways. The smooth acrylic brush strokes, the sensuality of each piece… the reasoning was endless. Neither John nor Nick felt as though they had to define it themselves.

“I can’t thank you enough.” JT threw himself at his fellow tattooist, wrapping his arms around him tight.

“Naw, don’t mention it man!”

They had both combed through _Playboy_ after _Playboy_ , all the resources they could, to find the perfect Nagel representation of themselves. Of each other. JT had struggled at first, there were far too many beautiful _Girls On Film_ that were oh so Nicki to him, so perfect.

But he had found her. Found the one.

She lay perched on one arm, with a fan. She was cheeky and demure all at once, nipple out and heavily made up in the finest of makeup. She was elegant, pristine, with a dash of flirtation. Very stylish, in her animal print patterns. Very daring, when her clothes were stripped away.

Nicki had it easier. He knew immediately, without even needing reference, which Nagel painting summed up his JT. His lover, his best friend. Her gaze was heavy, intense, riddled with a fire that was sure to burn anyone up in her path. Her lips were plush, painted inky black, and wore a corset to perfectly frame her ample curves. Her breast was out, the other covered by a leather glove she held up towards her face. It was handcuffed, smoke in hand, surrounding the luxe fabric. She was vibrant, dominating and wild. Painted lovingly in JT’s flaming red, Nicki had undoubtedly made the right choice.

Nicki had his Nagel John on him for life now. JT had his Nagel Nick, perfectly made up and sensual.

“ _Are you_ ,” JT wiped another stray tear, “ _happy now. That we fantasised?_ ”

Nicki giggled, reeling JT in and answering his question with a subtle brush of his lips. Only when Cuccoo began to laugh, did they break away.

They had decided between them that they owed him, of course they didn’t want him to feel left out. Cuccoo needed their love too, their appreciation and support. Not just for his work.

With a nod, JT broke away from Nicki’s loving gaze and settled on Cuccoo’s heated one. His lips had parted and he was being sized up, JT’s own eyes darkening.

“I say,” he began, taking it slow, “we show you, Warren, just how much you mean to us.”

“Oh, really?” Cuccoo’s voice was riddled with desire.

Nicki joined in, tones intermingling. The silver to JT’s blue.

“You’re here to stay, we are family at _Skin Trade_.”

“I’m staying.”

JT’s nimble fingers were already peeling away the fabric of Cuccoo’s see through shirt, baring his delectable muscles to them both. He let it fall.

Craning a single finger, JT was luring him over to the sofa. He pushed Cuccoo down and let Nicki straddle him, sliding his skintight leathers off of him. Throwing them as far as they could be thrown.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by John’s tattoo collection and my own body mods. 
> 
> I had the Nagel ‘John’ as stated in this story, my most favourite Nagel painting, tattooed on my arm the other day. What better way to have my first tattoo dedicated to the real John Taylor? I’m finally an adult so why the hell not?! 
> 
> She also has the line “are you happy now, that we fantasised?” surrounding her, as JT says in this fic. Her name is Johnny too, I have zero regrets having her beautiful body on me! ❤️🤘🏼
> 
> A tumblr bestie of mine also got themselves a Duran tat yesterday, we’re just so in sync.


End file.
